


Tangled Up in You

by allhalethekings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Kinda Pines Too, Erica Plays Matchmaker, Erica Takes Matters into Her Own Hands, Future Fic, Idiots in Love, Just a Whole Lot of Pining, M/M, pining!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1981848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhalethekings/pseuds/allhalethekings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The longer Stiles stares at the text, the longer his stomach gets uneasy. </p><p>
  <em> Wish you were in bed with me right now. </em>
</p><p>This was by far the most random text he’d received from Derek in the entire seven years they’d known each other. And frankly, Stiles has no idea what to do with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tangled Up in You

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for a prompt from Anon on Tumblr who wanted, "Stiles pines for Derek, tho he doubts Derek feels the same. One nite, Derek sleep-texts Stiles about wishing they were in bed together. Stiles is SO STOKED, but afraid he didn't mean it."
> 
> Title from Howie Day's Collide.

The longer Stiles stares at the text, the longer his stomach gets uneasy. 

 _Wish you were in bed with me right now_. 

This was by far the most random text he’d received from Derek in the entire seven years they’d known each other. And frankly, Stiles has no idea what to do with this. He’d received the text the night before - apparently, it’d been sent at 2:30am, which was even more strange because Derek is usually in bed by 1am the latest - but he hadn’t seen it until this morning. And now, there was a pack meeting he had to go to in an hour and he had no idea what to do and what to say.

Derek’s texts to him followed a simple pattern: _yes, no, shut up stiles, you’re an idiot, stop texting me_. Where the frick frack did this text come from? Stiles rubs his face. Frick frack. This is what this stupid text had reduced him to. 

They hadn’t even drank any alcohol last night, which would have explained the text. Not that it would matter anyways because it’s not like Derek drank all that much in the first place. He tended to drink his special wolfsbane-laced whiskey straight from the bottle after one of those fights that leaves the whole pack feeling, _Holy shit we actually survived that monstrosity - let’s get hammered and celebrate our lives_. 

And okay, so Stiles is willing to admit that maybe after he got home from college, he had begun to realize his…let’s say budding feelings for the former Alpha. Actually, the term budding is putting it lightly. So is the notion that Stiles only recently began to feel that way. Perhaps the more accurate term is relentless pining for the better part of four, going on five, years. But that’s just for him and Scott to know, okay? 

Obviously, he hadn’t responded to it that morning and Derek hadn’t texted him anything else the whole day so really, Stiles had nothing to go on. He’d spent the better part of the day pacing around his room, surfing the Internet reading various articles on _How to tell if a guy likes you_ and _What do texts actually mean?_ and yes, pacing around his room again when he failed to find the answer he was looking for. So yeah, he hasn’t been having the best of days. 

An hour later, he’s still no closer to figuring out what the hell to say and it’s safe to say that his stomach was tied in knots throughout the entire drive to Derek’s new apartment and then throughout the whole damn pack meeting. It was probably the most quiet the pack had ever seen him to the point that even Jackson had bumped him on the shoulder asking him what the hell was wrong. 

Derek hadn’t even glanced his way, except for when Jackson had pointed out how quiet he was being and even then, it was no more than a fleeting glance. 

But fuck it, okay? He’d spent the entire damn meeting looking at Derek from the corner of his eye to see if his face gave _anything_ away but there was nothing. He can only take so much silence after all and it’s not like he can just ignore Derek for the rest of his life. He needed to find out what the hell was going on. So Stiles decides to stick around once everyone’s on their way out. Derek had gotten up with the rest of them to go into his room so Stiles just sits there in the same position in his spot on the couch, fidgeting and waiting for him to get back. 

Derek comes back out ten minutes later and stops short when he realizes Stiles is still there.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have school tomorrow?” He asks, his feet finding movement again after a beat to go to the bookshelf and rummaging through the titles.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Stiles asks in return, keeping his eyes trained to Derek’s back. Derek straightens and turns to look at him, a single eyebrow raised. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your text last night. Well, technically this morning.” 

Derek gives him a bemused look before moving to where his phone is lying on the coffee table. “I didn’t text you,” he murmurs, thumbing through his phone. It’s at that moment that they hear Erica cackling in the kitchen, which - she’s still here? And it’s then that Stiles finally notices Derek looking back at him with a pained expression on his face and his stomach just drops as the hard realization hits him like a freight train. 

They stare at each other for what feels like hours, with Stiles’s heart going a million miles a minute and he _knows_ Derek can hear and fuck, why can’t he calm down. Erica is still laughing in the kitchen and Stiles can feel his whole face flaming up. Derek goes to say something but closes his mouth, sighing. He glances towards the kitchen and back at Stiles. 

“I’ll be back,” he mutters angrily and the second he disappears, Stiles is up from the couch and out the door, practically running into his Jeep before accelerating away. 

Because, no okay? He can’t do this. 

Fuck, he went through this whole damn thing with freaking Lydia but even that was more forgiving because he’d never truly felt the same way about Lydia that he did with Derek. And the last thing he can do is just sit there while Derek looks at him with a pitying expression and inevitably lets him down. Which, okay, Derek would do so gently while caring for his feelings and all that shit and that would just hurt more. It would. Derek’s not an asshole - at least not anymore and while they trade barbs on a daily basis, he’s not _that_ asshole. 

So fuck this. Stiles is just going have to cowboy up and get the fuck over it. It’s been five years now and he needs to get it into his brain that this whole thing with Derek just isn’t going to happen. Maybe this would be a good catalyst to finally get over it. 

He’s back at home in record time and thanks the universe that his dad isn’t at home to question him about his harrowed state. Instead, he slips into his room right away, ignoring the growling of his stomach, and then dives for his bed, clutching his favourite pillow against his body. It’s pathetic, he knows. He’s lying there in a fetal position, his heart still beating like he just ran a marathon, and all he can do is will himself not to tear up because that’s the fucking last straw, okay? That’s it. He’s not going to be that guy who cries because the guy he’s desperately in love with doesn’t feel the same way. That’s not him and it’s not going to be. Nope. 

He’s almost asleep when he hears the window pane slide up and a corresponding thump, the familiar telltale sign of someone entering his room. It’s probably Scott, he guesses, and he’s really not in the mood to deal with his questions right now. He wouldn’t stop giving Stiles questioning looks throughout the whole meeting - looks that Stiles firmly avoided. 

“Really not in the mood right now, Scott,” he mumbles, eternally grateful that his voice doesn’t crack up. There’s shuffling of feet before the side of the bed dips behind him.

“Good thing I’m not Scott then.” 

And suddenly, Stiles can’t breathe. He stills, refusing to make any movement, but it’s not like that deters Derek in any way. 

“Stiles, turn around,” Derek requests softly. Stiles can feel Derek’s heavy gaze on the back of his neck but he makes no effort to do as Derek asks.

“Can you please leave?” He asks instead. “You’re kind of the last person I want to talk to right now.” Derek sighs softly.

“We need to talk about what happened, Stiles, and I don’t want to have this conversation with the back of your head while you’re curled up in a fetal position.”

And you know, that sounds an awful lot like a frustrated guy’s snark. That’s not something Stiles signed up for right now and it’s not something that he’s willing to entertain either. Because, seriously, what does Derek have to be frustrated about? _Oh look, another kid who’s in love with me - oh no, looks like I have to go through all this trouble of rejecting someone else again?_ Seriously?

So Stiles jerks up and turns to Derek so fast that he actually startles. 

“What,” Stiles hisses, glaring daggers at the former Alpha. Derek looks taken aback at the ferocity in Stiles’s voice and parts his lips in response. “Seriously, what do you want? Haven’t I been humiliated enough? I bet Erica thought this was _so_ funny, right? Let’s play fucking mind games with Stiles and see how he takes it.”

Derek’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, like he has no idea what Stiles is even talking about. Stiles scoffs when he voices that. 

“You know what I’m talking about and you know what, fuck you, okay? How dare you just sit there and force me to talk about all this shit when all it’s going to lead to is you inevitably turning me down? For once, why are you insisting on doing the mature thing and communicating when you can just ignore this whole thing so I can get over you - this - once and for all?” 

Derek’s face is still doing that _what are you even talking about_ thing and Stiles just can’t anymore. He sighs, slumping down onto himself, his eyes drawn to his childhood blanket and his fingers fidgeting with his pillow. 

“Look, I don’t blame you, okay? But I am humiliated because of what Erica did. I was forced to show my cards and I realized that I had the losing hand the whole time. So can you please just let me wallow in peace so we can get past this?” His voice sounds so broken and hurt but Stiles is beyond caring at this point. 

A beat and then, “But what if I don’t want to get past this?” 

Stiles dares to look up. “What.”

Derek sighs minutely before giving Stiles the most open look he’s ever seen and it’s like Derek is looking into the deepest crevice of Stiles’s soul. 

“Erica may have sent that text but that doesn’t mean it’s any less true.” 

And for the second time in the span of five minutes, Stiles can’t fucking breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked this? Wanna read other stuff I have? Wanna make Sterek fic requests? [COME AND HANG OUT WITH ME ON TUMBLR.](http://allhalethekings.tumblr.com)


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